Capable of Love
by The Dusktaker
Summary: Sebastian wonders if his Boss is capable of love. He devises a little experiment.


**Chapter One-Wandering Mind**

_Is the boss even capable of love, let alone any feelings than anger and joy?_

Sebastian had been sitting here for an hour, and he could already feel his body going numb. He knew he ought to get up and move about, but then something would happen, and Jim would be pissed. His cell phone buzzed, indicating a text message.

Speaking of Jim…

**Is it done yet?-JM**

**Boss, the man is a machine. You know he won't be out for another three hours.-SM**

**I know, but I thought that you might like some company.-JM**

**Texting doesn't count as "company". Boss, please let Cooper set the place on fire. It's mind numbing sitting up here.-SM**

**I told you once. No.-JM**

**It's SO BORING-SM**

**Don't tell me about boredom. My favourite sniper needs to hurry up and get back.-JM**

**Stop telling me to speed up time.-SM**

**I didn't say that-JM**

**But you're acting like it. I'll talk to you later Boss.-SM**

**Hey, you can't ignore me!-JM**

Sebastian read the last text and laughed. Then he turned and watched. His mind, however, kept talking nonstop.

_Jim doesn't love Sherlock, he just obsesses over him. But that's the closest to love I've seen him._

_Wait; am I jealous that Jim obsesses over Sherlock and not me?_

Sebastian decided to ignore his mind for a while.

Finally, the man stepped out of his club, laughing as he walked away with some young girl hanging off his shoulder.

Seb remembered the letter Jim had got for this.

_Dear Jim,_

_Please kill my ex-husband for me. He's god awful._

Sebastian smiled. Notes like that and a good pay check were all the reasons Jim needed to help this woman achieve her goal.

Sebastian shot the man in the back, and that was the end of this story.

"I've sent you seven text messages." Jim glared at Sebastian.

"I know. I was ignoring them and doing my job."

"Really? Three of the texts were new jobs I had for you, and ignoring them isn't very professional."

"I read them all, just didn't reply. Yes, I'll take the one in Canada, and of course I'll do the one in India, but not the one in China."

Jim moved so fast the gap between them was closed in a few seconds. Even though Sebastian was nearly a foot taller, he knew he had good reason to be frightened by this man.

The only thing he registered was excitement, however.

Jim stared him in the eyes, and they were full of madness. More than one kind of madness.

Than Jim stepped back and turned. Sebastian heard himself murmuring "Not worth it." Jim reached his desk and spoke loudly. "You may go."

Sebastian left, disappointed.

Jim had always known that his favourite sniper felt something unprofessional about him. Jim refused to acknowledge it, and for two good reasons. What would happen when Sherlock finally fell? Who would make sure everything was finished?

And second, how would he explain about the voices? The ones that only let him sleep a few hours every week. The ones that shouted even when it was completely silent.

No one could know why he was so changeable. Why he strived to find something to play with. Because even when something mildly distracted him, the voices left.

And that was why Sherlock was so interesting.

Jim looked at his computer, trying to come up with anything to write about today. Writing took his mind away from the voices.

He typed something, not really sure what, until he looked up at the screen.

_Jim, get a life._

"Great. Now my brain is giving me fortune cookies."

Sebastian yawned, ready to get some sleep after a fourteen hour day.

His phone buzzed annoyingly at him.

"Shut it." He told it. Not that it listened. It was a phone after all.

Another buzz.

He looked at the texts, knowing how Jim would hit him if he didn't answer soon enough.

**Sebastian, bring your knife collection. I need it.-JM**

**And I'm not telling you why because that would take the fun out of it.-JM**

Sebastian didn't need to ask why. Jim needed to either kill someone slowly, or threaten someone with a few new patterns cut in their body.

Either way, it meant one thing.

Sebastian wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.

He'd barely been old enough to shave.

Sebastian was desensitized to death, but he hated killing young people when they betrayed Jim. They had so much potential, and then they stopped listening to Jim.

Jim played God in his organization, and who could blame him? He'd brought everything out of the ashes to rise in glory and splendour once again. Just like God saving life by having Noah build an ark before he flooded the world.

The problem was with Jim, you could never tell when he was going to be the wonderfully patient God seen in the New Testament, or the plague sending God of the Old Testament.

Luckily for the boy, he'd fallen unconscious from blood loss before Jim was done. Skinning was always the worst way to go, in Sebastian's opinion.

Sebastian didn't realize the Boss was behind him until he tapped his shoulder.

"You're forgetting your knives."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." Jim looked like he was going to say something else, but then he turned on his heels and left.

Sebastian got home, and opened up the case of knives to clean them. A piece of paper fell to the floor.

It was typed in a very artistic font.

_Meet me at my flat at the warehouse tomorrow. There's something I need to go over with you before you leave._

_-Jim M._

Sebastian stared at the note, and then folded it up, tucking it in his breast pocket. He didn't know why, but he felt like it was something precious.

Jim had no idea what he was going to say. He could tell Sebastian about the voices.

No.

About his plan for Sherlock?

No.

About how he wished they could be more than friends?

No way in hell.

About his unprofessionalism for caring about him.

That would work.

Jim heard the door opened. He began to turn, and saw an unfamiliar face. "Who the hell..."

_Bang._

Seb threw the door open. The man was clearly unprofessional, dragging a wounded, but still very much alive Jim across the floor.

If Jim was still alive, however, that meant they wanted information from him.

It took about three seconds for the would be kidnapper to fall after Sebastian put seven bullets in him.

Jim was pale, but the wound, in his lower right leg, was not too severe. Seb grabbed the first aid kit he'd seen the few times he'd been here before and tied a strip of gauze around Jim's leg. "Jim, what happened?"

"Shot. Wanted to take me somewhere."

"Can you limp out of here?"

"No."

Sebastian sighed, then mass texted anyone who was in the country.

**Come to the warehouse. Be prepared to defend against large group of well armed people. Don't know what we're facing.-SM**

"I've got some people coming."

"Good. Send for Smith. Tell her to bring painkillers and medical equipment."

Smith was good at her job. Jim was patched up in no time.

She walked out to Seb. "Normally I'd have anyone besides my assistants wait an hour, but he's very insistent."

Sebastian stepped inside. One of Smith's nurses sat besides Jim, taking notes of his condition.

"Hey, shoo." Jim gestured to the girl.

"Dr. Smith told me to stay here and watch you."

"Look, if I'm about to die, Seb can shout at you to get in here."

Finally, the nurse left. Sebastian could tell by how calm his Boss looked how the painkillers were affecting his mind.

"So Seb, I guess you rescued me."

"Yeah. Guess so."

"Never pictured myself the damsel in distress."

Seb snorted. "He had you fairly doped up on something. Smith's running tests now. Anyhow, she said you wanted to see me?"

"Yeah. Seb, I wanted to tell you... that feeling more than respect for me is very unprofessional."

Sebastian hoped Jim was about to tell him to stop. Then he could move on with his life.

"And I actually don't mind. At all. I want to see you more often."

Seb smiled. "Are you sure that's you and not the painkillers talking, Boss?"

"Positive."


End file.
